A good heart
by notfarenoughyet
Summary: Maura ponders her place in the life of the people surrounding her, and what she means to them. What they mean to her. How even she can become fed up with drama, her own and that of others. And how sometimes change seems inevitable. But what changes lie ahead? Not very lighthearted.
1. Chapter 1

A good heart

1.

It is the moment of utter defeat. The moment you realise that despite your most honest effort to just be the good person you are, to everyone, everything, it's because of exactly this trade that most people always just loved you, wanted you, or kept you - because of what you had to give, what you represented, and not of who you truly are. Were. Are.

And it hurts and still you manage to give some more. Even when the forced smile falls off your lips the moment she steps away from you, her own features alight with hope, with reason to again believe in a happy ending. For her. Her family.

What will become of you though, nobody seems to care about.

Not even the one person who has been the most adamant about the incredulity of your doubts that arose after you learned about your true heritage. Of course, when you finally allowed your anger to show and you snapped at Hope - like you never thought you could - she instantly supported you. Assured you that the ability to express your feelings, even the less cordial ones, does not mean that there is even a semblance of the evil buried somewhere inside you as you still so often feel convinced to believe.

But the preoccupation with her mind belies her words. They don't seem to hold the same significance they once did anymore. Not when Jane herself has changed, before your very eyes and frighteningly so, lately.

Once, she more than wholeheartedly agreed when you said you were women who just don't make men their priority. Now a man is everything she very nearly obsesses about. Every day. Well, you could probably break it down to every minute, every second even.

Part of it, you understand. This is the man she's probably been in love with for a long time. Or at the very least one she's never forgotten she'd loved, and it was the easiest thing to fall again. You imagine a Jane in high school, the chubby, sporty girl who was always trying, fighting to prove her worth. Where she didn't fit in with your average high school girl, she tried harder to fit in with the guys. God beware if the tomboy falls in love with one of those guys. Just when she's almost managed to be a bit of a 'buddy' to them. So, you are quite sure of that, she bit her tongue hard and just ignored the feeling until it seemingly went away. She grows up, grows tall and lanky, beautiful even, but toughened by experience and her own expectations about the life she wants to lead. An independent life. Being her own woman, standing her ground on every single step of the way of becoming a police officer and further along the path her career sent her on. Pushing through hostilities and being belittled. A true equal to all the men who still deem their line of work not exactly one cut out for women. And she exceeded all those expectations, also because she never truly showed any vulnerabilities. And that's just Jane for you, she keeps her turmoil hidden and her emotions securely guarded behind a brick wall of tough brashness and bravery and sarcasm and the sheer force of her iron will.

But knowing her, maybe better than anyone, you know she longs to be loved, to be accepted as a whole person, vulnerabilities included, just like every other human being does, too.

But you never took her for one to literally beg for it. Not when she usually hates being the centre of anyone's attention. Not when the more someone pines for her, the more she keeps her distance. When opening up to someone is not even on her list of things she is prepared to do very easily. Not with a man who can't even accept himself and the situation life has put him in. Not for someone who deems hiding from the one who loves him and pushing her away because he simply can't be the man he once was anymore a noble act. An act of love. When it is everything but. When all he had to do was see that though Jane can be insensitive at times, she would have loved him, taken him just the way he is. Whatever difficulties that would include. But not seeing this in the first place already made him unworthy of her love, her _devotion_ , in your eyes.

So no, you don't get it, her sudden obsession with him, with love, with bringing him to just look at her, truly see her, at all.

And you feel yourself becoming angry all over again. Your life has been ripped off its hinges and it just dangles there now, precariously close to collapsing altogether, in a heap of disappointment and fear.

You'd like to slap Jane silly until she becomes the woman you've known her to be again. And at the same moment you wonder if it's for her good or much rather your own. When she, all problems aside, has been the one reliable person, the first constantly by your side, no fucking matter what, in all your life. She, and everyone you can consider _family_ now without fearing to tremble from belying yourself, have taught you the full meaning of the word. And the full extent to which you are indeed capable to live among the living and not fall short to anyone's expectations. They are the ones who love you, unconditionally. Because of who you are. And when you look out for that Jane now, for her tendency to brush crisis off with humorous sarcasm, for her snark, her strength, her belief in the good in you, all you find is a bitchy, wrongfully hurt, pathetic shell of the woman she used to be.

So how could you not, especially on days like these, find it hard to believe in the sincerity of anyone's love for you.

When you still doubt yourself.

The next time you see her, after the whole ordeal, you don't tell her about your decision. And it is in passing anyway. She's busy with the aftermath of the building collapse, just as you are, the paperwork for all those autopsies too big a pile on your desk.

You order a green tea while she demands her usual coffee from a beaming Angela behind the counter, whose overjoyment at Tommy being released from hospital on the next day and Lydia stepping up and taking care of TJ like she had never doubted her ability to be a Mom can't be hidden and is proclaimed to both of you in true loud Italian (Grand-)Ma fashion. Jane just nods at you and smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes and you know that Casey has left another mark on her.

But you're too tired to ask and if you're being honest with yourself, you just don't wanna hear about it anymore. You have your own cross to bear (at this thought you cringe, because the old Jane would've raised an eyebrow in admiring amusement at your quip at her catholic upbringing) and so you just put a comforting hand on her forearm. Just like when you touched her shoulder behind the ambulance, she flinches, and you quickly let go, a feeling of deep disappointment lodging in your throat, making it impossible to not have your eyes water up, like this is rejection, like with the growing distance between you over the past week your touch is no longer as welcome as it was, no longer a comfort. So before you can be figured out, you just turn and make your escape through the door, not daring to look back, knowing the guilt and apology that will be written in her eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

2.

It bothers you how much it bothers you, this distance. It bothers you that you can't tell her. It bothers you that you feel side-effects from stopping taking birth control pills, you never had any problems with that before, and screening your blood-test results you simply have to acknowledge that maybe it's just you getting older. But you're moody and tired, you feel bloated and yet when you look into the mirror first thing in the morning you have to admit that you've been losing weight. The procedure is scheduled for three weeks from now, and you're supposed to strain your system as little as possible before it. Less caffeine, no more birth control pills, as well as little to no alcohol four weeks prior to surgery. You eat even more healthily than you did before and work out on a regular basis. It will make recovery quicker and less painful.

The leave of absence you've requested has been granted, your scheduled replacement is informed and feels more than up to taking over your responsibilities, you've already had an appointment with the responsible surgeon. On that front everything is clear.

You don't regret your decision. It's the right thing to do. It's all you can do for a family that will never be yours, but whom you can't deny at least genetically being a part of. If this is all you're able to give them, all you can partake in you will gladly seize the opportunity, even if it changes nothing. Hope's gratefulness is expressed in various emails she has been sending you, and you know she will be holding her end of the deal. An anonymous donation was made, that's all her daughter will ever know. Her daughter. You are her daughter, too. It's the most contact you've had ever since you learned about her relation to you and yet it's nothing more but friendly conversation via e-post about one thing and nothing more, the transplant. You try to keep your distance and not let it get to you, that you appear to be just a means to an end to her, and eventually you know you'll have to accept it and respect her decision.

All Jane has been lately is moody, too. It's been made clear that Casey considers it his own decision to take the risk of the still pending operation, and that he has shut Jane out again. This time, it appears, once and for all. So Jane mopes around like a teenager who has been shunned by her first crush and it has become increasingly difficult for you to not just grab her and really punch some sense into her.

The rest of the Rizzoli-clan still partly lives on your turf, but evenings together have become few and far between, the tense silence between you and Jane not escaping anyone's attention, but everyone seems to be too polite to ask for an explanation. Highly unusual, even Angela doesn't even try to meddle.

You find that your leave has been communicated via interdepartmental mail and now you expect Jane in your office (you've been hiding in ever since you received the news) every second.

Instead your messenger alert bleeps.

_Det. Rizzoli, J.: _"Were you planning to tell me personally at all or am I not on your list of people to inform about important personal decisions anymore?"

Leave it to Jane to turn an obvious question into a blatant accusation.

_Dr. Isles, M., ME: _"I wanted to tell you myself, but lately there have been few opportunities to get you alone."

_Det. Rizzoli, J.: _"It's not like you've made much of an effort to talk to me at all, _lately_, have you?"

You instinctively lean back in your desk chair at the hostility that radiates off the message on the screen in front of you.

_Dr. Isles, M., ME: _"Jane, I don't know how..."

You're still pondering how to formulate what it is you're not even so sure you want to convey when the door to your office is being ripped open.

Jane looks exasperated and more than just a tad angry, her breathing is clearly laboured by the way her chest is heaving, she's obviously skipped taking the elevator and just clattered down the stairs. There's a fierceness in her eyes you haven't seen there in far too long, and as she sweeps her curly hair back and fastens it in a sloppy ponytail while fixing you with an icy glare, you feel something twitch inside you. Something that makes you sink even deeper into your overstuffed office chair. Something that makes you wish the ground beneath you would just open up and swallow you whole, however unrealistic that notion is.

Jane makes a point of closing the door noisily behind herself, her figure imposing as she stands in front of your desk, hands on her hips, her stance wide and dominant, her square chin jotted forward like this was the opening to an interrogation of an especially despised perp.

"Now you got me alone. Care to tell me what's been the matter with you these past weeks? You've become a ghost, Maura. A ghost that creeps through the shadows in your own house, so busy not being noticed by anyone that everyone on instinct alone avoids you. Like a wounded animal."

You recover instantly and anger is boiling up inside you so suddenly that Jane's features freeze in a grotesque grimace when you push your chair back, rise quickly and slap both your hands on the table top with a loud smack.

"I'm not the only one who's been evasive here, Jane. I'm not the one who's been moping around about a man who clearly doesn't deserve being in your favour to the point of self-abandonment and complete acting out of character. I've just been dealing with some things myself and since your reactions have shown me vividly you didn't seem to care much about me comforting you in any way, I kept my distance, yes. To let you and me figure things out for ourselves for once. Yes, we are friends, and yes, in the past we more often than not relied on each other to catch us when we fell, but sometimes you just have to be a grown-up and deal with things! Accept them when you cannot think of any way to change them and move on. This is not you, Jane! It is so not like you to act so other-directed, so demure. I don't even recognise you anymore since Casey returned to your life. You have never let anyone direct your behaviour in any kind of way, not like you have with him. And I just don't see it. I don't understand it. A woman truly in love, and a man worthy of it would act differently altogether. Where have you gone? Where is my Jane? I needed you. I needed you and I couldn't find you anywhere!"

It sounded too needy even to your own ears. You never wanted someone in your life to rely on so helplessly. And yet you can't deny the tears collecting in your eyes any longer, you can't deny what it means to you, this woman standing in front of you, sheer horror clear in her fathomless brown eyes. You realise that instant you don't want it that way anymore. Because it doesn't work. It never will. Too much has changed, so subtly yet undeniably, some of it that you haven't even fully acknowledged yet.

But she catches her breath and lowers her head. Deflated, like a balloon. The fight you wanted, she will not give you.

"I needed you, too, Maura. I needed you too, and you were retreating into your shell again, like I haven't seen in ages, like I never knew you could anymore after all that's already changed about you since I've known you. I didn't wanna pry. I just wanted to let you be, like you me. It was wrong, I realise that now. But don't tell me who I am, or who I can or cannot be. Whom I should be loving or not. Who's worthy of me. It is not for you to decide. I have seen a lot of men come and go in your life, and the god's honest truth is, had I ever even wondered if my judgment mattered, I'd have approved of not a single one of them. But seriously? We're grown women. Whom we _bed _is our decision and ours alone. And don't even dare to tell me about love. It is not your place."

You expel a breath of frustration, loudly.

"Oh, don't kid yourself, Jane. You've made your disapproval of the _men in my life_ very clear, on many occasions. But you know what? You're inconvincible anyway. It would be futile to try and make you understand my point of view. So let me just tell you what you came down here to get to know in the first place. I've agreed to the kidney transplant. Surgery is scheduled for Monday morning. Hope had to promise me Caylin would never know, and I am less conflicted with the act per se than I should be. What shatters me is that I know I'll never belong. Not with them. Not in this damn world like others do. That I never did and don't know if I ever will. I doubted a lot of my beliefs and decisions these past weeks."

You look up at your friend, at this changed Jane who still somehow means the world to you and it's like she sees you for the first time. Her muscles strain under her clothes and her jaw clenches as she tries to keep her composure, you can see the thoughts racing in her head with no result coming out, so you continue.

"The worst thing is, I doubted you. Lately I couldn't help but beginning to search for an ulterior motive in even your friendship with me, your devotion to my well-being, your protectiveness of me. A friendship so precious to me, you couldn't even begin to understand. But somehow I feel more and more convinced that I'm just not made for such relationships. Somewhere along the way, it's like I'm bound to do something that damages them, with no chance for recovery. I'm tired, Jane. I'm so tired of fighting for recognition, of fighting to fit in. I don't. So be it. It's nothing I haven't managed to live with before. Just this time, knowing what I've had, it'll hurt a little more, a little longer. Go ahead, Jane. Live your life. Convince Casey if he is what you really believe you need to find happiness. I have four weeks to decide what to do with my life. I'm not so sure if my decision will be to come back here and resume my occupation. I'm not sure of anything anymore. I just know that I have some things to figure out for myself, and with that, I don't think anyone can be of any assistance."


End file.
